


Corrosion

by Anonymous



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Parabatai Bond, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19302934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Shadowhunters AU.Part 1. There's a vicious demon loose in New York. Alec knows more than he can say.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began this just after the first season, plotting most of it and completing segments of various chapters before being distracted by other projects. Because of this, characters lean more toward their book counterparts, making them younger and a bit more immature.  
> Magnus and Isabelle will eventually be introduced, though not within the first 4 chapters that comprise the first part, which I consider somewhat of a prologue.  
> This is very much a work-in-progress, so please do not expect regular updates.

It was too quiet, the limited light from the street hanging heavy in the night, exaggerating every shadow to an extreme.

"James! Sara!" AL hissed, barely an exhale as he crept carefully along the corrugated metal, doing his best to keep silent.

He paused at a corner, taking the brief second to take in a breath before stepping out onto a path, bow raised.

Nothing. He straightened to full height, confused, certain he had heard a familiar voice. Tracking had led him here for a reason.

But the short stretch of alley was empty, the brick wall a dead end. There was nothing to see here.

He rubbed at his neck, tugging at the short strands of hair. Maybe they'd been here at some point but moved on since then. Perhaps they'd been drawn away by another demon, some mundane's screams, not stopping to think twice. They were reckless like that. Then again, he should've known better than to bring them out together.

Nothing to see here.

He turned back towards the street, meaning to continue searching the next block and then some until he found them, but he stopped instead, blinking at the thought that had _invaded_ his head. There really was no other word for it.

He turned back around slowing, stepping back into the entrance of the alley. He squinted, tilting his head to the side as he stared at the wall, examining the tall expanses of brick, the dark corners where it met adjacent walls. _Nothing to see here._

Something was wrong.

He took a step forward without thinking, feeling it before he saw it. A flash of crystal blue, a veil he'd unwittingly crossed, rushing through him in a wave. In the next moment, the entire wall had crumbled away. His eyes widened and he uselessly raised his bow.

He'd barely moved before he was on the ground, the string lashing back into him.

His face stung and he was winded, back aching from the fall. He moved before he fully recovered, on his knees and scrambling for a proper grip on his bow. He managed to let a single arrow fly before he was on the ground again. He tried to rise and could barely lift his head. He blinked at the darkness intruding on his sight.

A deep voice, rough and dry, whispers close into his ear. "What is this?"

He tried to speak, make a sound. Nothing came out.

"Who are you?" A second voice asked, clipped and cold.

Everything was falling around him, fading into a dark fog. His ears rung and he could no longer hear anything but, slipping quickly into something deeper than sleep.

"Let him go!"

The pressure on his chest disappeared. It had been holding him down on the ground, squeezing. Breath came back to him in a start, a hard gasp that hurt his lungs with its volume.

Gradually, the spots faded from his eyes, and he saw.

He wasn't in the alley anymore, if he'd ever really been. It was hard to think back to _then_. The sky above him was vast and dark but also bright, full of stars.

"Who are you?" A kick to his side had him rolling to his front, up on his knees and hands, weak like there had been a longer fight and he had already lost.

"Alec Lightwood," he managed to speak out, throat raw. He could taste metal in the back of his mouth though the kick hadn't even been too hard, more of a prod than anything.

"Alexander Lightwood. What luck." Toneless.

He's still on his hands and knees, catching his breath, panting, head down when he's approached next. Hearing footsteps draw close, he's ready, extracting a hidden blade with a grated whisper and jumping up to drag the other down to the ground with him.

He grappled with the thick fabric covering the other from head to toe. A sleeve is torn away with a failed swipe of his dagger, and he catches a glimpse of marked skin, half of what could only be a rune.

There was no time to be surprised. Even as he felt something in his chest shift in an unnatural way, he ignored the pain and continued to fight, tumbling through dirt. For a moment, he thinks he might have the upper hand.

Then there was a tug on his leg and he was flat on his back again, struggling to breathe through the debilitating pain. The fog and heat are back again. Smoke, he thought. He was still breathing, but his lungs burned, and there was no relief

"Don't kill him." The same cold voice demands, just a bit winded now.

The pressure slowly retreated, slithering away with the smog, leaving a sting in its wake. He could breathe again, barely, in pain where the fog had touched him, his leg warm and damp.

"If you want to do it yourself, fine. Just do it quick. It's getting late. We can try again another day." A new voice suddenly spoke, low, grouchy and impatient.

"No. I'm not going to kill him. And everything's perfect _now_." The cold voice was insistent. "As if you could even pull this off again tomorrow. _Bane_ was a hard-enough sell."

"What can we possibly use him for? He knows too much."

"Well, it's got him anyhow. He's in the circle."

"It takes what it wants. We don't get to choose."

"So, we make another deal."

"Why bother?"

"Alexander _Lightwood?_ " He sounded annoyed. "Doesn't ring a bell for you at all, really?"

"I don't associate with _Shadowhunters._ " An infuriated hiss, like he was offended.

"Whatever," the other dismissed him, and then he was turning back to Alec, asking him, "where's the mortal cup?"

It was an easy question, common knowledge and nothing to think twice about, but hard to answer when he was still out of breath, head swimming. "Alicante," Alec gasped.

A short laugh, made of sound more than any particular feeling. "That's good. Wouldn't want it in my hands, now, would you?" Pause. "No, don't you die on me."

His vision was blurring again, black shapes forming runes on the dark sky, completing the small glimpse he had gotten. The darkness draws closer.

"Hold still."

Cold hands grabbed at his wrist. It hurt like a bruise, then burned with the sharp swipes of a stele.

He was brought back to the surface, not having realized he was slipping. He felt the warm wetness of blood, on his legs, arms, hands, everywhere and was confused, shuddering at the prickling sensation of wounds he didn't even know he had stitch closed. But his head continued to spin and everything seemed in the realm of a dream.

Hard hands were suddenly gripping him by the shoulders, and he's forced upward, hardly able to hold himself up on his own.

"Look over there."

He looked and wished he hadn't.

"See that?" A hand grabbed his chin so he couldn't turn away, and he didn't have the energy to fight. The fingers weren't as cold as they were before, dipped in the warmth of his blood he had felt pooled at his chest.

"It could happen to anyone," he said ominously, "your family, your friends. It _will_ happen if you speak a word of this to anyone. Don't think I can't do it. You stumbled in here easily enough and you weren't even the one I wanted. And those two," he tsked, "too easy."

He was shoved back down to the ground again, gasping in pain because runes could only do so much. There was an indecipherable mutter from somewhere and then he was suddenly pinned once again, silently suffocating on smoke, the smell of sulfur cloying and thick.

The other continued. "I don't need you now, not in this state, but you'll be useful soon enough. I know who you are, and I can always find you, or maybe I'll just make you come to me. Of course, I can't _really_ trust _you,_ so how about we fix that?" He calls out, "come over here for a second, won't you?"

There was the sound of feet against gravel, drawing closer, and then he thinks he hears a shriek, feels the ground tremble beneath him. Words echo around him, but Alec isn't present enough to catch the words because his chest burns, and he can't even scream.

* * *

Jace woke suddenly. One minute lost in shadows and confusion. The next, staring into the very real darkness of his room. Somewhere in between, something had woken him up. He scratched at the back of his shoulder, a constant hum under his skin that he could never quite reach. He was tired but sleep was no longer an option amidst a vague, inexplicable, sensation of dread.

He dressed quickly, compelled to do _something_ but without the faintest clue what it could be, the feeling that he might jump out of his skin if he did nothing.

The halls were dim and quiet, leaving him with the vague sensation that he was still sleeping as he passed by endless doors. He must have been, because somehow, he ended up at Alec's door, fist clenched to knock before sense returned to him and he pulled away,

What was he doing? He dragged his hand through his hair roughly in frustration. He'd been cooped up in the Institute for too long, the past few days feeling like weeks.

Briefly, he contemplated going out for a walk, but he quickly dismissed the idea. If not Maryse, then Alec would somehow figure it out, and while Alec would never tell on him, everything he didn't do was always somehow worse than anything Maryse could.

He turned away, tired but still restless. In somewhat of a daze he walks to one of the few places he still feels comfort, untainted by the possibility of awkward encounters. In the Institute's conservatory, he laid himself down on the stone path, losing himself to the dark slate of the skylight.

He thinks he sleeps, because in what feels like the next moment, he's startled awake, the expanse above him just a shade brighter.

"Jace!"

He sat up, the blood rush making him dizzy but he recovered quickly, on his feet in the next second, watching Hodge look at him with an expression of mild surprise. "Maryse has been looking for you. She's in the office."

Jace groaned but immediately headed out, taking a roundabout route.

Along the way, he's briefly arrested within sight of the entrance hall, alive with activity where it is usually dead at this odd hour of early morning. He continues on towards the office, hurrying now.

"Maryse!" he exclaimed, seeing her. "What's going on?"

She turned to him much more quickly than he anticipated, stopping mid-conversation to focus the entirety of her gaze on him, looking startled, then oddly blank.

"Jace," was all she said.

"What's going on?" He repeated.

The Shadowhunter Maryse had been speaking to answers when she doesn't, dark eyes that Jace unwittingly meets. Jace recognizes him as the visiting instructor for the latest batch of trainees, but Jace can't remember his name. In his defense, he had been distracted when they were introduced just a few weeks ago and since then, they've had little reason to interact.

"A patrol went out over an hour ago to investigate reported demonic activity by the East River and failed to report back. A second patrol didn't pick up any trace of them."

Jace was still confused. "Just an hour? So is all this really necessary?" He looked the stranger up and down, from his standard issue boots to the very tall top of his boring buzz cut head. "Who are you again?"

"Jace," Maryse rebuked him automatically, though half-heartedly. He looked at her, but she wasn't even looking at him anymore, staring somewhere just above his head. "The Highsmith twins," she said after a second, voice terse. "They are two of the three presently unaccounted for."

It took him another second to completely understand, the odd vestiges of his dream creeping over him, quickly washed away by dread. "And Alec?" It's not really a question.

Something in his voice must have sounded particularly awful because Maryse turns to him just as quickly as before, the same expression on her face, though he can recognize it better now. Distantly, he hears a shrill chime that has the other Shadowhunter moving away from them.

"He's fine," Jace is quick to say, quick to try to assure her even as he realizes his words mean next to nothing. "I just had a weird dream earlier, but you know it probably doesn't mean anything. We aren't–"

Her expression is suddenly pained and Jace immediately regrets his flippancy. Just because it's true doesn't mean they ever acknowledge it.

"What can I do to help?" He tried, but Maryse was already shaking her head.

"You're still on probation," she reminded him, her expression hardening. "You would do well to not get involved, and if you even _think_ about leaving the Institute-"

He scoffed, crossing his arm defensively. "I _know._ I was just asking."

He did his best to appear unconcerned, meeting Maryse's eyes as she stared at him, scrutinizing.

"Alec's fine," he repeated, rolling his eyes to break their connection and cover up his growing unease. It had nothing to do with his brother, of course, but everything to do with Maryse. It was rare that he saw her worried.

"Maryse," the unnamed Shadowhunter called. Jace was not pretty sure that his last name began with an _R_. "Bodies have been reported in New Jersey, along the banks of the Hudson River. Mundane police are describing black markings on their skin and charring, though it's unclear whether or not they might be referring to the same thing."

"Why would they be in New Jersey?" Jace dismissed him without a glance.

"How many?" Maryse demanded.

"Uh," the hesitation was strange enough that Jace reluctantly turned to look at him. "They're not sure." He paused again, then continued in careful explanation. "The bodies aren't exactly... _intact_. It might take a while to figure it out."

"Send the nearest team," Maryse commanded, her face pale, "and request a medical unit to advise."

The other nodded and returned to the computer. Maryse's face and body remained frozen in a display of stiff composure.

"Maryse..." He tried, and the skin on his shoulder suddenly prickled, but it must have just been nerves. Seeing Maryse like this _was_ unnerving. "He's fine."

She was silent, not even looking at him, and he hated that nothing he said would ever be enough when it came to Alec.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could probably use some more editing but this chapter has been mostly written since I first started this story years ago and I don't want to reread it so much that I start to hate it.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't quite sure how he made it through the door, only that he was suddenly inside the Institute, hesitating in moving forward, doubting that he was even capable.

It was a relief to see someone he knew out of all the people he didn't. His mother, moving quickly towards him as soon as she caught sight of him, recognizing him instantly even in the dim lighting of the hall.

"Alec, where have you been?" She demanded as she approached, her voice resonating between the close walls, everywhere.

He was cold, drenched from the rain, shirt slick with smears of ichor. He had no idea where he'd lost his jacket. Then he remembered. He tried to speak, aware of the gathering crowd nearby.

"I—There was—" He closed his eyes to clear his head, taking a breath. "We should talk in your office." He managed to get out the proper words and opened his eyes.

He was suddenly wrapped in an embrace, the grip of his mother's arms firm around him as she exhaled quietly into his chest. She pulled away quickly, a hand lingering as she caressed his cheek.

"I was worried. Jace said you were fine, but..."

She sniffed once, lightly.

He couldn't quite see her face, cast in shadows with the brightness of the main room behind her. But he could imagine it, her red rimmed eyes, the only thing she couldn't hide after crying, or nearly.

"What happened?" He couldn't help but to reach out to her.

She straightened, composed in the next second, likely feeling the eyes of the others on her back. His hand dropped. "I should be asking you. I've had to request extra patrols and they've been out for hours, looking for you and the twins."

"Sara and James." His throat was dry, he could hardly get their names out. The memory came back in a shock, and he was horrified all over again, afraid. His chest began to heave as his breaths came faster, but he tried to control it, remaining silent.

"Where are they?" She asked, not noticing his distress. "They were with you, weren't they?" She probably didn't mean to sound accusatory, but the reality of it did nothing to alleviate his guilt. It was too late for them, but there were still others.

"Where's Jace?" He managed to get out. "And Clary?" he added, just in case.

She looked at him oddly. "They're around here somewhere. Why do you ask?"

"Call everyone back," he breathed out, and though his voice was low she was still close enough to have heard, but not understanding she ignored him, asking him again.

"Where are the twins?"

He shook his head, not wanting to think about it, not knowing if he could even say it. "Call everyone back," he repeated, his voice stronger.

"Alec," she scolded him, lightly but urgent. "You need to tell us what happened."

"They're dead," he blurted out, the release of it leaving him lightheaded. Cries of shock and dismay sounded out distantly. This appeared to be the last thing they expected. He had trouble believing it himself, but he had seen, too much. It would probably fuel his nightmares for years to come.

"I need a full account immediately," his mother said, voice trembling, then more firmly. "You should have reported back to the institute as soon as you arrived on site."

"We didn't make it that far." He felt dazed, unsure of what more he should say or even could. With that unexpected attack in Idris just months ago, and the subsequent battle, the major threat to the continued existence of the Shadow world had been eliminated. It was hard to believe that it could just start again; the dying like so many hadn't died already. Another beginning and he couldn't say a word at the start of it, or at least not anything that mattered.

The elevator door opened suddenly, illuminating the hall.

"Alec!"

Clary appeared then, rushing towards them. "You're back! I knew—" She cut herself off as she looked at him, suddenly concerned. "Are you okay?"

In the light of the elevator, his mother could see him more clearly. She took in his ruined shirt, exposed skin camouflaged with streaks of ichor and clinging to the dampness of wet cloth. There was a slight tilt to his shoulders as he favored one leg, a long tear in his pants that could explain it.

She looked surprised, maybe even a little horrified, but she quickly composed herself, her voice brisk. "Tell me everything."

He stared down at the floor, wary of all the gazes he felt on him, the small population past the main hall quiet.

"I lost them," he admitted, shutting his eyes in shame. "We ran into a pack of _Drevak_ demons, and I took my eyes off of them for just a second..." He exhaled, shaking his head. "I thought they just went off on their own, it's happened before. I tracked them down Park Avenue. There was a—" he choked suddenly, his throat closing. His mother took a step forward in concern, but he had already recovered, suddenly cold with the thought of everything he could no longer say. He peered down at her. "I really think we should talk about this in the office—"

He moved to take a step around her and stumbled, nearly collapsing before Maryse darted forward to hold him upright.

"Clary, help him to the infirmary," she commanded, Alec leaning heavily on her. He didn't protest.

* * *

Clary left as Alec began to strip for a well-needed shower. After some purposeful wandering, she eventually found Jace in one of the training rooms, scanning an array of weapons on the wall.

"Alec's back."

Jace took a second to finally breathe before he turned to face her, looking vaguely annoyed. "I told Maryse he was fine. Of course, she never trusts me when it comes to—"

"He's in the infirmary," she finished, raising an eyebrow.

His face fell.

"He's fine," she added hurriedly, "just has a few scratches and a bad leg."

Jace let out a breath, his expression settling until he looked almost bored. Clary already knew she wouldn't like what he would say.

"Is there anything else?" Jace turned his attention back to the wall, grabbing a pole at random.

She couldn't believe him, the game he continued playing, even now. Her voice was harsh as she answered. "No. I just thought you'd like to know."

Jace was still, seeming to hesitate, and he was, until he sighed, dropping the pole back in its slot before turning back around and stalking past her. " _Alright_. Don't worry so much. I'll check up on him."

* * *

Alec was sitting up on one of the beds, barely clothed with his legs covered and dangling off one end, head down as he gazed blankly at the floor. Dark bruises dotted his skin, stark against the pale of it.

Hodge was approaching the bed as Jace arrived at the door. Without any prompting, Alec lifted the thin sheet that had been covering his lower half, revealing his legs up to the knees. Jace inhaled sharply the sight of his left, swollen and black from the ankle up.

"What happened?"

They both looked at him, Hodge somewhat surprised. Alec just looked confused, his brow furrowed.

Jace stepped forward to get a closer look, seeing that the color reached to just above his knee, but it didn't just end. Thick veins of black extended further, just up to where Alec was still covered.

"Demon venom," Alec answered blankly, then looked to Hodge. "My mother's waiting, so let's just get this over with."

Hodge tightened his lips into a thin line as he leaned over Alec's thigh, briefly hesitating before running his hand over it, slowly down to his knee. It took Jace a moment to register that he wielded a thin knife. Alec bled more black than red, the thin liquid dripping down a plastic bin.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked, fascinated but also horrified, unable to look away.

"The wounds were closed by an _iratze_ ," Hodge explained, "but the venom needs to be drained."

"I didn't—" Alec's body tensed as Hodge started in on some part of his calf.

"You know," Hodge said, stilling his hand to look over at Jace. "An _amissio_ couldn't hurt. I'm not sure how much blood he's already lost, but he looks rather pale."

"It's probably the lighting," Jace said, but he moved forward anyway, though reluctantly on behalf of his _'Parabatai,'_ who wasn't even looking at him. Giving Alec ample time to protest, he raised his hand, starting the rune just below his collar bone. Jace felt him jerk as the stele made contact and remain tense as Jace worked carefully, slowly carving out smooth lines, aware of the rare concession that had been given.

Jace huffed and muttered, "I'm not even pressing that hard."

"It's fine." Alec was stiff, more so than he'd been when enduring the blade.

"Nasty bruise you got here." Jace finished the rune with a flourish and lightly prodded one of the larger purple marks on his bicep. Then another. Alec winced. "And there. Shouldn't the iratze have taken care of it?"

"They're probably not ordinary bruises," Hodge answered.

"Are you sure? I thought Alec said he was _fine._ " Jace mocked.

Alec scoffed. "It's been hours since I was attacked. I'd be dead if it was serious."

"You also could have just bled out," a Shadowhunter spoke by the door, the same one Jace had seen with Maryse earlier. "You got lucky."

"Why are you still—?" Alec let out a sudden gasp and clenched his eyes shut, lowering himself carefully back on the bed before dropping his torso heavily, arms giving out. "I...I think the _amissio_ made it worse."

"Worse?" Jace asked, barely hiding his panic. "I thought you said you were _fine_? You probably just jinxed it"

"A Silent Brother will be here soon," Hodge said.

Jace jerked his head. "You called the Silent Brothers?"

Hodge stood over Alec, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared down at the extensive black bruising. "It is quite a lot of venom. I was hoping it was harmless, but if its effects have just been delayed..."

"It was probably a Greater Demon." The other Shadowhunter finished.

Alec's chest heaved and he tried to unclench his jaw. The _amissio_ burned dark. "No," he managed to get out, "I never saw it, but he—" Alec stopped, his chest heaving soundlessly. "It's gone," he finished in a harsh breath. "It should be."

"I'll go tell Maryse," Jace offered, feeling uneasy standing around, unable to do anything but watch Alec struggle.

He moved to the door, but the other Shadowhunter was already there, stopping him with hand on his shoulder. "I'll do it. She send me to report back to her."

Jace blinked, then shoved his arm away. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

The man just looked at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "I've heard about you, Wayland."

They glared at each other.

"Jace," Alex said.

He turned to find Alec barely clinging to consciousness. He barely noticed when the other Shadowhunter left.

* * *

Jace sat on the floor, not fond of the memories given by the soft firmness of infirmary beds. He kept his eyes averted, scratching at a shallow divot in the tile between his knees, stained with the greenish tint of ichor that had been left too long, jagged edges smoothed by countless cleanings. If he paid a bit more attention elsewhere, he could hear Alec breathing quietly in sleep at the other end of the room.

His thoughtless musings were soon interrupted by a familiar cadence of footsteps, gradually drawing nearer as he felt himself tense then immediately did his best to relax. At the last moment he straightened, meeting green eyes that peered cautiously into the room, gazing curiously at him for just a moment before sliding over to Alec and lingering. Jace felt a pang in his chest but knew this wasn't the time or place for that.

"How is he?" Clary asked, moving forward to join him in nearer outskirts.

He shrugged, staring into the opposite wall. "He'll live."

"You missed the briefing," she commented, trying too hard to be casual, her curiosity obvious and expected.

He attempted a smirk despite the grim atmosphere. "I didn't want to miss the opportunity to be the one to tell him he has to drink a gallon of holy water to purge the rest of the venom."

"So, he _was_ attacked by another demon." She sounded surprised. "Why wouldn't he mention that when he came in?"

Jace shrugged. He had a hard time figuring out why Alec did anything, always tepid or plain cold, and Jace never knew what to expect, just learned to be wary. If they weren't basically brothers, he wouldn't even bother. "Would it make a difference? The priority is the twins right now."

"So, you don't think it's true?" The sudden drop in her tone made him look up, staring into an unhappy face that peered down at him. Jace spend so much time trying not to look that he was only now seeing it.

"What?" He asked, confused. "Are you talking about the demon? Alec says it's gone, but..." He shrugged.

"You haven't heard?" Faced with the evidence of confusion clear on his face she hesitated, then carefully explained. "Alec said James and Sara are dead."

His head spun. He hadn't even thought to ask about them, hadn't even been thinking too much about them. They had a tendency to disappear, and it happened often enough that he hadn't thought twice about it. It probably wasn't the first time that an Institute had been crowded on their behalf, except that this time it had also been Alec. "The body by Hudson?"

She shook her head, pressing her lips together. "The lab says it'll be another day before they have the results, but they don't think it's either of them. Apparently, the bones make it look like someone older."

He frowned. "Maryse must have had fun with that." Before he could dwell too long on the grim reflection of what was past, he moved on. "So, we don't know they're dead."

Clary shifted uneasily beside him. "Alec sounded pretty sure. He told Maryse to call off the search."

He shook his head, leaning his head back against the wall. "That's not going to happen, especially now that whatever attacked Alec might still be out there."

Clary sighed, the sound venturing into a groan, dropping down to the floor beside him.

"I should be in bed," she said after a minute of easy silence. "I'm supposed to head out again in a few hours."

"Maybe I can convince Maryse to let me go in your place," he suggested lightly.

She nearly smiled. "That would be fair, considering that Alec and I have been picking up your slack this entire week."

He remembered something he'd been trying not to think about. "I was supposed to take the twins on patrol last night."

"Jace..." She started, obviously regretting her words, but before she could continue there was a heavy thud, the sharp shudder of an impacted cabinet. Her eyes widened. "Alec!"

Jace cursed, scrambling to his feet and darting towards the sound with Clary following closely behind. The ruffled but empty bed was immediately apparent, the drag of twisted sheets drawing his gaze toward the ground.

He looked down at his brother, barely suppressing an ill-timed laugh at the sight of Alec weakly struggling to escape the tangle of linen. Jace crouched down, deftly extracting him from the sheets. "Are you alright?" he asked, quickly sobered by the darkening wetness along his pants leg, the slow trickle of blood running down his exposed ankle. "You're bleeding."

"Jace," Alec said hoarsely, blinking rapidly as his eyes attempted to focus, his gaze eventually meeting his. His lips twisted into an odd expression Jace couldn't even begin to decipher. "You need to leave," he said.

Jace cocked his head, staring at Alec in confusion. "Leave?" He echoed. "Do you mean leave the room, or..." He could finish, a heavy feeling of dread settling in his chest

Alec suddenly groaned, his head dropping down between his knees, one hand clutching at the kneecap.

"What's wrong?" Clary moved forward, hovering above him as her hands fretted uselessly.

"My stele," he said, speaking through gritted teeth.

Clary immediately straightened, scanning the bed and side table through furrowed eyes, moving forward to muss through the pillow and thread of sheets. "It's not here. Where are the clothes you came in?"

Alec had rocking his head while she searched, and it took Jace a few moments to realize he was shaking his head. "My jacket."

"You weren't wearing..." Clary started off confusedly then cut off abruptly, understanding. "Oh."

Jace rolled his eyes. "You want a rune? I can draw a rune."

Alec sighed. "Well, that didn't work out so well last time, did it?"

"Nothing was wrong with my rune," Jace countered tightly, conscious of Clary at his side. "You were the one marinating in demon goo, but if you think you can do better..." He held up his own stele, waving it within his line of sight.

Alec lifted his head slightly, revealing a hint of a grimace. He raised a hand, hesitated, and then dropped it. Letting out a slow breath, he uncurled his body, straightening a single leg with a grimace and revealing a series of red splotches that colored his chest, outlined with the fading remnants of violet. Clary stifled a gasp beside him, and he idly wondered how she would have reacted at the even worse sight of him just a few hours ago.

"Just..." He sighed, pulling up slightly at his pants leg, reluctant. "Try an _irtatze_. "

Jace reached out where Alec indicated, finding an unbruised area low on his ankle, on the border of a reddish swatch. Before making contact with the sharp tip of _adamas,_ he hesitated, remembering his previous reaction. "It still might not work," Jace told him. "They didn't manage to get everything out. You still need to drink—"

"Just do it," Alec said, eyes slitted as he rested his head against the edge of the bed, looking down at Jace's hand. "It's just an _iratze_."

Jace hesitated for just a moment more before letting out a breath and leaning down. He intended to complete the mark quickly but was thrown off by the hard jerk Alec gave at the first stroke, immediately pulling away.

"Alec..." Jace started.

Alec nudged at his knee with his foot. "It's fine. Finish it."

Jace reluctantly complied, completed the remaining lines quickly. Alec barely moved, remaining stiff once the rune was completed. Jace watched the rune carefully. Just like last time, it lingered, taking longer than it should to settle. Alec's face was frozen in a tense expression until he took a deep shuddering breath, seeming to forcefully relax. His eyes opened and he seemed more alert.

"I'm fine," he said, responding to whatever expression was on their faces. "Help me stand?"

Jace straightened from his kneel, reaching out a hand, then another, using more strength than he felt he should have to to pull Alec off the ground.

Once upright, Alec easily sat back on the bed, landing heavily. He immediately made a move to stand up again, but Jace, anticipating it, quickly reached forward to place a firm hand on his chest.

"You're supposed to be on bedrest," Jace told him, doubting he'd remember most what had happened when he was barely awake.

Alec swatted his hand away. The motion was weak, but surprise compelled him to take a step back. "I'm fine."

Alec stood and immediately collapsed again. Clary gasped and Jace grunted, his grasp useless against the unexpected dead weight. Alec swayed even on the ground, awake but seemingly dazed.

"Clary," Jace said, exasperated, " _please,_ get Hodge and see if the medic isn't busy."

He listened to her leave before reaching for the hem of Alec's pants, raising it carefully and pulling gently to separate it from sticky skin. Alec barely reacted, his eyes hooded and on the verge of closing.

Slowly, he revealed thin blotted veins of, nearly invisible against patches of fading red. He peered at the incision Hodge had made, a series of slashes instead of the singular incision Jace had assumed. Each was simply scabbed over, not completely healed, the blood still wet on the two that had opened and a third that had nearly begun to.

Jace felt uneasy now. The _iratze_ hadn't worked as it was supposed to. Peering even closer, he observed two sets of thin white scars some distance apart, one resembling the _iratze_ he had drawn, the other that must've been Hodge or the Brother.

"Something's wrong," Jace said, bewildered. "How are you feeling?" At the lack of response, he looked up.

Alec was slumped back against the bed, asleep.


End file.
